Bad Day
by Juliet'sEmoPhase
Summary: Draco has had the worst day ever, so Harry goes a bit overboard with presents to make him feel better WARNING! STUPID FLUFF! BABY KITTEN! ARGH! Post Hogwarts AU, established relationship, no smut.
Author's notes 29-04-16: This is a cheeky little late birthday present for my lovely friend Steph (perchancetoendure). She is always throwing me parades, so I thought Harry could try and be as enthusiastic for Draco after he's had a bad day.

(This is just super silly fluff, I apologise profusely)

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Bad Day

Draco couldn't wait to get home.

There was a thumping that had started several hours ago at the front of his skull that now resembled a woodpecker, his spine was just a series of aching knots and his throat was raw as sand.

This day could officially do one.

He was lucky to still have his job, he knew that, but it was of little comfort when the firm had suffered possibly its biggest loss in the history of the company. As a former Slytherin, he normally had a healthy amount of respect for a cunning deal, well executed. But it was hard to muster the awe when it had been targeted at him and his people.

They had done everything right, everything they could have thought of to save the law-suit, but when one of your own decided to betray you to save their own skin (and probably line their own pockets) there was little that could ultimately be done.

 _Slimy_ _git,_ Draco thought ruefully. He'd spent most of the journey home cathartically imagining all the gruesome things he would love to do to the traitor if only he could get his hands on him, and for once the professional side of his brain was too tired to pipe up about all the laws he'd be breaking in the process, thus allowing him several rather satisfying fantasies.

Draco sighed as he ascended the steps to his front door, and put aside his imaginary murder schemes. If he was lucky, maybe Harry would be home to listen sympathetically whilst he outlined exactly how badly his day had truly sucked, and then he'd down some firewhiskey and crawl into bed. At least it was Friday and he could get good and drunk if he wanted.

He jammed his key in the door and rubbed his eyelids. Actually, all he wanted was a cuddle, but he couldn't just _ask_ for one. He'd just bitch and moan until Harry got the hint, rolled his eyes, and dragged Draco down onto the couch to pet him until he calmed down. He smirked to himself. Winding Harry up was half the fun after all.

Harry _was_ home, though he surprised Draco by already being sat on the bottom of the staircase waiting anxiously for him.

"You're home!" he cried, jumping to his feet so fast his glasses almost slipped off his nose.

Draco snorted. "Nothing gets past you," he said dryly.

Harry ignored him and pulled him into that hug he'd been angling for much quicker than he'd hoped. He thought he was going to have to put in at least twenty minutes of top quality griping. "Hermione told me what happened," he said, rubbing Draco's back despite his huff of (fake) protest. "I'm so proud of you."

Draco jerked backwards and looked at Harry as if he'd lost his mind. He was certain Harry would have been immune to those kind of looks now, considering they came at least three times a week, but every time he would blink and ask-

"What?" in disbelief.

"Proud? Harry we almost _lost_ the firm!"

Harry rewarded him with the eye roll. "And Hermione said if it hadn't been for you there would have been no _almost_ about it. She said she'd never seen you fight so hard, and you managed to save your people's jobs despite the heavy financial losses."

Draco grumbled that that really didn't matter when they'd still been absolutely walloped, but he still allowed Harry to pull him back into a stroppy cuddle.

"I'm sorry you had a crappy day," Harry sighed, and Draco felt like an arse.

"That's okay," he mumbled into Harry's neck. "Thank you for being nice."

Harry chuckled and kissed the side of his head. "I um," he said shyly. "Might have got you some presents to make you feel better."

"Presents!" Draco snapped, immediately feeling about a thousand times better. "Why on earth didn't you say so you massive tease. Where are my presents? I want them right now." He grinned to show Harry he was joking (sort of), but Harry grinned right back.

"I knew that would work," he boasted, grabbing Draco's hand. "I erm, might have gone just a _tad_ overboard."

"Nonsense Potter," Draco declared as he was lead hastily down the corridor into the kitchen. "There's no such…thing."

He stopped and looked around their usually tidy kitchen, which currently looked like a confetti bomb had exploded all over it. Streamers ran from every corner and cabinet top, and there were balloons quietly bobbing about and singing squeakily to themselves. Harry lurched forward and grabbed two freshly poured glasses of champagne, thrusting one into Draco's hand as his eyes wandered over the hamper from Honeydukes, the second bottle of bubbly, several other wrapped presents and a suspicious looking large and colourful box that sat in the middle of it all.

"Nope, I take it back," he said faintly. "You're bonkers. You didn't even do this much on my birthday!"

Harry slipped his arm around his waist, and he felt a flurry of excitement flurry over his skin. He was still bone tired and mad as all hell at the world, but Harry knew just how to remind him what was important in life. "Ooh," he said devilishly. "Is that some sort of chocolate body paint I spy?" he asked, reaching for the hamper.

Harry smacked his hand down though. "Later," he growled in a positively scintillating manner. Then he pointed to the big box, and his expression changed from playful to panicked in a flash. "Erm…that's the overboard part."

Draco arched an eyebrow at him. "What, and the rest of this is nothing special?"

"Just open the damn box," Harry muttered, going bright pink. "I'd say we can get a refund…but I think we're a bit beyond that now."

"So I'd better like it or else?" Draco suggested, but Harry just shoved him towards the box.

Curious, Draco ran his fingers over the lid, noticing it had several holes punched into it but not really appreciating the significance. That was, until he lifted it up and saw what was inside.

"Salazar sodding Slytherin!" he yelped as he jumped back, clutching the lid to his chest. The little kitten nestled on the blanket inside looked up with enormous hazel eyes, ginger fur sticking out at every angle.

" _Mwraw!"_ it squawked at him in a rather demanding manner.

"You got me a kitten," Draco breathed, not daring to take his eyes off the beast as it stretched up to rest its paws on the box edge and peek up at its new surroundings.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. "I popped in the pet shop to get some owl feed, and this little devil was beating the crap out of all the Kneazle kittens, despite being half their size."

Draco eyed the little thing appreciatively. "Is that so?" he said.

"The owner said nobody wanted him, and I know you don't like anything that fluffy or cute, but he just looked so sad, I couldn't leave him! If you hate him though I'm sure Hermione would take him-"

"We are not giving hand-me-down pets to the Granger-Weasleys," Draco interrupted huffily. He batted Harry away as he tried to step up to the box. "It's a mangy thing, but it's my present and I shan't be swindled out of a gift that easily." He sniffed, then poked the kitten's side. The beast mewled again, baring impressive teeth for something so tiny. Draco picked it up easily with one hand and held it up for inspection.

Its legs dangled from either side of Draco's palm, and it weighed no more than a handful of dry parchment, but the little monster still managed an impressive scowl. "Whatever were you thinking?" Draco scoffed. "It's ugly and pathetic, who would ever want such a thing?"

"Uh-hmm," Harry hummed from behind him.

" _Merp!"_ went the kitten.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Well, I need to get changed," he announced, but when he tried to dislodge the rude little scoundrel it just slipped through his fingers and sunk its claws into the fabric of his sleeve. "Huh?" he said.

"I think he likes you," Harry said, and Draco pretended to ignore the barely stifled giggle.

"It's probably just trying to share its flees with me," he drawled, then narrowed his eyes and the pest. "Oh well, if that's the way you want to play it, I suppose you'll have to come with me until I can unpick you from my _Gladrags._ Then Harry can have you back – I think you're starting to make me sneeze anyway."

Without once acknowledging Harry's larger-than-life smirk, he strode proudly from the kitchen, as if he always walked around with a small feline clinging to his arm.

When Harry found Draco later, fast asleep on their couch with a certain tiny ball of orange fluff curled up on his shoulder, also dead to the world, he absolutely did not congratulate himself, or even punch the air a little. He just did what any caring boyfriend would do, and took a picture.

One with lots of drool.

End


End file.
